I’m now reading Prey by Michael Crichton (okay, so I’m listening to it on my MP3 player while I polish dentures, but that’s as close to reading as I’m going to get). It’s an interesting novel about nanotechnology and what could happen if we don’t issue proper guidelines of control prior to micro-manufacturing these tiny creatures. Basically, a giant black cloud of tiny particles is flying around, learning and evolving, and stalking prey (including people) on which it feeds, in order to reproduce. Spoilers may follow, so stop reading now if you wish to read the book (and you probably should, because it’s pretty good).
For the first half of the novel the story revolves around a man and his wife. He thinks she’s having an affair, and he has lots of evidence to support it. Well, it turns out she’s not having an affair at all. This is by far the most unbelievable part of the story. As we all know, if you think your wife/girlfriend is cheating on you, she almost certainly is. And probably with someone right out there in the open. How’s that for realism?
I haven’t finished the story yet, so she may still have been cheating on him – but I doubt it. I’ll let you know.